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In Arcadia, the Tall Blue Man could make the trees applaud and the rivers weep with his renditions of the classic stories. Of course, he never made up his own tales — the True Fae lack that capacity. But he could retell them with such skill that the Gentry from all over the land would ask for their favorite tales, over and over, and the Tall Blue Man was happy to oblige. Pride was his undoing. He visited the manse of a Fae lord with a perfect memory, a lord who was so old that the stones didn’t remember his childhood.

He remembered every story he’d ever heard, and after seven days of listening to the Tall Blue Man rattle off his repertoire, the Fae lord scoffed that he’d heard all of these tales before, and that truly the Tall Blue Man could show him nothing new. And the Tall Blue Man responded with tales that he had heard from changelings, stories that originated from the world of mortals, and the lord answered that he had heard these, too. There were no new tales, he said bitterly. Everything “new” was just an old story with some new dressing. The bard told the lord that he would travel as far as was necessary to find a new tale, and would not return until he did.

In his travels, the Tall Blue Man left the Hedge for the mortal world, and he found that his vow protected him from the ravages of that realm, but also that it prevented him from entering the Hedge again. He travels the world in an old, blue van that he doesn’t remember acquiring, asking those he meets for “a story.” If they fail to provide one, he leaves them alone, shaking his head in disappointment. If they tell him a story, he invariably judges it unworthy, a mere reimagining of something that he’s been telling for centuries. He buries those victims in a special graveyard in the desert that he calls the Tale-Barrow. Headstones carved with their stories mark the resting places of 100 unfortunate storytellers.

The Tall Blue Man wants nothing but to go back home and tell his stories again. The people in the world wouldn’t appreciate his craft, and so he has nothing but contempt for them. He has killed changelings, mortals, vampires, mages and even werewolves in his time, but he has yet to find his elusive original tale. It might not even exist, but the Tall Blue Man refuses to face that possibility, because it means he’s stuck here forever.

The Tall Blue Man might approach a character looking for a story, but that rather shortchanges him as it makes him into a combat monster. Instead, consider having the characters overhear him ask someone for a story, or have them investigate the disappearance of one of the bard’s latest victims. They might also become lost in the desert and find the Tale-Barrow. Maybe the answer to a problem they have is on one of those markers?

The Tall Blue Man is immense, standing over seven feet in height. He is thin, but still carries an unmistakable air of menace. He doesn’t smile and he doesn’t laugh, and while in Arcadia maybe his skin was azure-colored, on Earth the “blue” in his name refers only to his demeanor. He dresses in beat-up jeans and a snakeskin jacket, and he carries a harmonica but no one’s ever seen him put it to his lips.

His mien is similar, but much more handsome. In his mien, his eyes are electric blue, and the wind kicks up around him, hot and sticky, as if a summer storm is about to break. The Tall Blue Man’s teeth are sharp and bone-white in his mien, and his fingers are just slightly too long for his hands.